


Like a Real Family

by Queenie_Mab



Series: Mab's Harry/Draco fics [9]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Harry, Family, Fluff and Angst, Frottage, HP: EWE, Jealousy, Kid Fic, Living Together, M/M, Miscommunication, Rimming, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-25
Updated: 2013-09-25
Packaged: 2017-12-27 14:59:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenie_Mab/pseuds/Queenie_Mab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry thought he had all he wanted in life, raising Teddy and being the parent he's always wanted to be, until he experiences what life with a partner could be like. Now if only Draco wasn't straight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Real Family

**Author's Note:**

> written for the 2013 HD Tropes exchange at [HD_Tropes](http://hd-tropes.livejournal.com/9668.html) on livejournal
> 
> Thanks to groolover for the beta and brit pick and to Kedavranox for the alpha reading and cheering!

Harry adjusts his sunglasses, wiping a trickle of sweat from his cheek, and settles back in his lawn chair, the sun baking his skin. He absently rocks the small cradle sitting under a large umbrella to his left with his foot. 

He smiles at the sleeping baby inside. If he could have told himself even two short months ago that now he'd be living in a state of domestic bliss with Draco Malfoy, his son, Scorpius, and his godson, Teddy, he'd have thought he'd gone mental. 

"Harry! Watch this!" Teddy yells from a few yards away where Draco is teaching him how to fly his first real broomstick. 

Harry watches Teddy rise several feet in the air and hover level to Draco's shoulders, his face splitting into an ear-to-ear grin. Harry gives him a thumbs-up, sinking back into the contentment of the moment, his stomach flipping pleasurably when Draco smiles at him too.

Harry stares at him while he talks to Teddy about his landing technique. Draco wears a pair of tracksuit bottoms that cling to his backside just right. He's shirtless, as is Harry, and the summer day is perfect with just the right mix of sunshine and an occasional warm breeze. 

Harry swallows, a lump forming in his throat. How has he come to find himself in such a difficult position? He's undeniably halfway in love with Draco Malfoy, and the worse part of the entire scenario is that Draco is not only straight, but grieving for the wife he lost in childbirth only six months ago. 

It's been years since Harry's had a crush on another man, ever since he agreed to be Teddy's full-time guardian. Only now, now that he's found himself in a position where he could see the joys a partnership would bring to his life, he feels its absence in a very real way. 

They are all staying at Andromeda's house, have been there going on two months while Andromeda helps Narcissa through an illness. Harry was against the idea initially, saying he and Draco would kill each other within a day, but he's never won an argument with Andromeda and he finds himself rather content with the arrangement.

He rocks the cradle again with his foot, allowing the sun to bathe his body in a blanket of warmth. He's idly watching Draco direct Teddy to fly laps back and forth across Andromeda's garden, his broom lying on the ground nearby. 

Scorpius wakes up, pulling Harry out of his frequent fantasy, of prising Draco's arse cheeks apart and worshipping his hole with his tongue. He leans forwards and picks up the squirming baby. 

"Hey there, little man. Did you have a nice nap?" He stands up, shifting Scorpius onto his hip.

Scorpius blinks his large grey eyes, his eyelashes amazingly long, focussing on Harry, then points a pudgy finger at Harry's glasses, leaving a smudge. 

"He's awake," Draco says, coming up behind them, Teddy following in his wake with their broomsticks. 

"Let's head back inside for some lunch," Harry says, and passes Scorpius to Draco. He lingers a moment while Draco carries Scorpius towards the house. He watches Draco's tanned back flex as he walks; the profile of his face turned to look at Scorpius in his arms, the way he laughs with ease, makes Harry's cock twitch in his shorts. Draco is a hot dad. 

"Come on, Harry," Teddy says from beside him, the broomsticks tucked over his shoulder like a soldier would carry a rifle. "I'll beat you there!"

Harry grins, watching Teddy's shock of blue hair bob as he chases after Draco's retreating figure. Harry picks up the cradle and follows.

~*~

Harry slings the dish towel over his shoulder and puts the last clean plate away in the cupboard. He gives the kitchen one last look and puts out the light.

He trundles up the staircase to Teddy and Scorpius's room, pausing when he hears voices.

"But when it says he greets Death as an old friend, what does that mean? Did my mum and dad do that? Did Scorpius's mum? When they died, did they just go with Death and not try to stay?"

His breath catches. In all the years Teddy has been with him, he's not asked this before. Harry hesitates. Perhaps Teddy just feels more comfortable talking to Draco about it. 

"No, Teddy," Draco says, his voice softer than usual. "I don't think they didn't try to stay or that they wanted to go with Death. This is only a story. It's not the real thing. When people die in the real world, I don't know what happens, but I do know that when a parent dies before their child, they aren't glad it happened. If there was any other way, I'm sure they would have not died."

There's a long pause. Harry's heart aches. 

"Yeah, I think so too," Teddy says, not sounding as choked up or hurt as Harry expects. His pain is not the same as Teddy's. "You're crying, Draco. Do you miss her still?"

He should move, make a noise or something so they know he's there, but he can't.

"I do," Draco's says. Harry strains his ears. "We had planned to raise Scorpius together even if our family would be an unusual one. She was my best friend. I loved her very much and I miss her every day."

His cheeks burn. The weight of Draco's grief sinks inside his chest. He remembers Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Dumbledore. It hurts.

"I miss my mum and dad too, even though I don't remember them," Teddy says.

Draco's voice seems to brighten a bit. "It's a good thing you have Harry, isn't it? He's the next best thing to having them here."

"Yeah. But it's good for you, too. You have Harry, too. We're all together here. It sort of feels like we're a real family now."

The floor creaks beneath Harry's feet. He shakes himself, forcing a smile, and walks to the boys' room. Draco and Teddy are lying on Teddy's bed; Draco has the _Tales of Beedle the Bard_ resting open on his lap and Scorpius snores softly in his crib by the opposite wall.

"Story time?" Harry asks from the doorway.

Teddy and Draco look up. "Harry! Good, you're here. Now you can do the sound effects for Babbity Rabbity," Teddy says.

Harry chuckles and takes his customary seat on the floor beside the bed, props himself against the wall, while Draco starts reading. 

Harry sighs lazily as Draco reads. It's nice to just sit back and bask in the sound of his voice. It feels like home, like family, and he wants to enjoy it while it lasts.

"…and none of them ever knew or suspected that the Fountain's waters carried no enchantment at all," Draco says softly. 

Harry looks up at Teddy's sleeping face, an image of peace and unconcern turned towards him on the pillow. Draco raises an eyebrow at Harry. "Think we can make it out of here without waking him up?"

Harry pushes himself off the floor, stretching his arms to work out the kinks in his back. "Yeah, I think they're both pretty much passed out."

He heads out the door and down the hall, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as Draco follows. He shrugs as he walks down the stairs, turning his head side to side. 

"You have a kink in your back?" Draco asks at the bottom of the staircase. 

He turns, his breath catching as their eyes meet, his pulse quickening. "Yeah," he says, stretching his arms over his head and twisting his back. 

"Come on," Draco says, walking to the sitting room. "I'll massage it for you."

Harry follows, his pulse quickening. He sits, as Draco suggests, on his knees in front of the sofa, bent over so his chest and head relax on the cushions, his arms overhead. If only they were both naked and Draco preparing to mount him from behind. It's fortunate Draco can't see his face. 

Draco touches his shoulders through his shirt, beginning the massage. Harry groans under the press of Draco's hands working their way down his shoulders, gripping his biceps, moving to his neck and down his spine.

"If you'd like, I could do this properly," Draco says, his voice a low caress. It's the voice Harry hears in his dreams. "I have some massage oil upstairs. I could Summon it?"

There's a hesitation in Draco's undertones, as if he's not sure that what he's suggesting is going to be taken appropriately, as if he's afraid Harry's gay is going to rub off on him. 

"Yeah, I'd like that," Harry says, quelling the urge to make an idiot of himself by letting Draco know _how_ inappropriately he'd like it. 

Draco Summons the oil and Harry shivers at the tickle of Draco's breath on the back of his neck. 

"Take off your shirt."

If he'd not just witnessed Draco telling Teddy how much he missed his wife, how much he'd loved her, Harry might think his attraction is not as one-sided as it is. He gives his brain a mental kick. He's misreading social cues because he's horny and desperate.

He pulls his shirt off and rests again on the sofa cushions; his skin burns under Draco's eyes, his own eyes firmly closed. He won't screw things up. When Draco's hands touch his back, he forgets everything. All he can do is _feel_. 

Draco's hands tease the breath right out of his body along with all his cares. Nothing matters as long as the long warm strokes continue. It's like Draco is reading him from the outside in using his muscles as braille, coaxing his secrets from him and reducing him to putty in his hands. Harry's cock strains. He wants to move his hand down to find it, to pull it out and fuck his fist until he comes, but that would definitely cross the line of what is appropriate. It's all he can do to stifle his moans.

"Does that feel good?" Draco asks, the purr in his voice making Harry's cock leak. His underwear is wet with precome.

"Yeah," Harry breathes, then chokes. He sounds needy and whiney. He tenses and Draco stops massaging. "I — I think that's enough," Harry says. A trickle of sweat runs down the side of his face from his hairline to his ear. Too much. He's going to come in his pants if he doesn't stop now. "Thanks, er — I need the loo."

Draco moves his hands away and Harry bolts from the room. 

He's up the stairs a moment later, realising too late he's left his glasses. It doesn't matter. He shuts himself in the bathroom and frees his cock, heavy and hot in his hand.

Bracing himself against the door, he strokes himself; fantasies of Draco on his knees, looking up, letting Harry come on his face do him in. He comes hard, shooting jet after jet of white come on the tiled floor.

He slumps against the door, panting. "I'm so fucked."

~*~

"Harry!"

Harry blinks the veil of sleep from his eyes, finding Teddy in his doorway.

"Whass… it?" Harry mumbles, his mouth as dry as cotton.

"Come on! Scorpius is almost crawling! You have to come and see!" 

Teddy sprints away laughing, thundering down the stairs. 

Harry pushes his blankets off and climbs out of bed wearing only his pyjama bottoms. He searches for his glasses before remembering he'd left them in the sitting room the previous night. 

Still drowsy, Harry stumbles into the sitting room and finds his glasses. He pushes them onto his face and Draco's arse swims into focus. Draco's wearing a pair of pyjama bottoms, like Harry, and is shirtless on his hands and knees, rocking back and forth. His arse flexes beneath the thin fabric of the bottoms. Harry stares.

"See, look!" Teddy calls, snapping him out of his stupor. He looks at the three of them on the floor.

"Come on, Scorpius," Draco says playfully. "You can do it."

Scorpius screws up his face and lunges forwards a couple of paces. Draco crows and scoops Scorpius up in his arms, rolls over onto his back and holds him in the air. Scorpius laughs down at Draco and Teddy, kicking his legs.

Harry's heart explodes. He wants Draco so badly he can feel it in his teeth, taste it in his mouth. It's not so much that he wants sex, though he _does_ ; it's more that he wants to be the family they've been playing for the past two months. He wants it to be real. 

A bitter taste fills his mouth as he realises that his is a pipe dream. His face flushes.

"You okay, Harry?" Teddy asks suddenly, and Harry looks up. Draco's sitting up with Scorpius in his arms, looking up at Harry as if concerned. 

Harry scrubs his face with his hand, wiping at his eyes. He's not crying; they just itch.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I think my allergies are acting up. I'm going to go and shower, I'll fix breakfast afterwards."

Teddy and Draco seem to accept his feeble excuse, which makes his heart ache more, because he's never had allergies in his life and had they been a real family, they would have known that and called him on it. He doesn't have time for these feelings. He needs to move on.

Standing under the shower spray, Harry scrubs his body with soap, thinking about the many reasons why he needs to overcome his crush on Draco. He can't face a rejection, so telling Draco about his feelings is out. His only real option is to try to distract himself until the crush subsides. Perhaps going out and getting shagged by another bloke would push it down for a while and, at the very least, alleviate some of the pent-up sexual frustrations he's having. He finishes washing, turns off the shower and begins to towel himself dry. 

After he's finished making a quick fry-up, Harry calls the household to the table and carries the frying pan into the dining room. 

Draco fastens Scorpius into his high chair and takes his seat across from Harry. Teddy's on his other side. Harry dishes a bit of the eggs and sausage onto each of their plates and puts the pan on the table. 

"What are you interested in doing today, Teddy?" he asks, hating the fake feeling.

"Draco said we could all go swimming if you want to," Teddy says, and shoves a forkful of eggs into his mouth, smiling and chewing. 

Harry turns to Draco and his heart sinks into his stomach. Draco's smile is so loving as he interacts with Scorpius and Teddy that Harry doesn't want it to end. 

Draco smirks when he meets Harry's eyes. "How about it, Potter? Swimming?"

Harry nods and takes a drink from his pumpkin juice. He clears his throat. There's no time like the present to start trying to stamp this infatuation down. "I was wondering if you'd be all right watching the boys on your own tonight? I'd like to go out."

"Yeah, that's not a problem," Draco says easily. He turns to Teddy. "If you've finished, you can go and get your swim things ready and help me pack the nappy bag."

Harry muses to himself as he finishes his breakfast and Draco begins cleaning up after Scorpius. Draco agreed to let him go out for the night immediately and without question. It proves to Harry that what is actually _there_ between Draco and himself is platonic and can never be otherwise. The chemistry Harry feels at times, the sensation that Draco is flirting with him, really is in his own head. He swallows the last of his bite without tasting it, and figures it's for the best that he's having this reality check.

~*~

They walk down the dirt footpath towards the secluded swimming hole that Harry has taken Teddy to ever since they moved in together. It's only about a half-hour walk from Andromeda's house.

Draco has Scorpius strapped to his back with a length of fabric wrapped around his body and tied in front. He's talking with Teddy, who skips alongside him, and Harry brings up the rear, carrying the bag of supplies. 

Harry can't help but wonder if the pulling away he's trying to do to protect his feelings is really in everybody's best interest. It seems like Teddy has taken to Draco, and Draco to him, so well that they don't even notice Harry has become more withdrawn. He smiles at the sight of Scorpius holding onto the top of Draco's hair with his fists as if he's using them as reins on a horse. Teddy and Draco seem to be taking turns interpreting Scorpius's babble and are having the oddest and most nonsensical conversation Harry has ever heard. 

They arrive at the swimming hole and Harry lays the blanket out on the ground in the sun, weighting it down with a spell so the wind won't blow it away. They all strip down to their swimming trunks and Harry takes Teddy's hand and runs to the water for a swim. 

The water is cool and relaxing. After several long minutes of splashing around with Teddy and acting as a human diving board for him, Teddy paddles off to join Draco and Scorpius nearer the shore where the water isn't so deep. Harry rests on his back, floating under the impossible blue of the sky, drifting while the sun bakes his skin. The moment ends after a while when Teddy splashes him with water, forcing him back upright to return the assault. 

When they finally climb out and grab their towels, Harry looks around for Draco and Scorpius. He spots Draco lying face down on the blanket, his arms stretched over his head, face turned to the side, and entirely naked. His skin has tanned to a nice golden shade, and Harry has to force himself to look away from Draco's perfect arse. He finds Scorpius sleeping in a makeshift hammock using the fabric wrap Draco wears him in fastened to a nearby tree branch in the shade.

"Why aren't you wearing any clothes, Draco?" Teddy asks, standing by the edge of the blanket wrapped in his towel. 

"Don't want to have funny-looking tan lines." Draco lifts his head and rolls onto his back as Harry approaches.

Harry carries Scorpius back to the blanket where Teddy is telling Draco he doesn't want to have funny-looking tan lines either. 

"Keep your trunks on," Harry says, and turns to where Draco is propped up on his elbows, his legs crossed lazily at the ankles, entirely unabashed in his nudity. "You'd better put yours on too."

"Prude," Draco says, smirking. He stands and puts his trunks back on.

Harry Summons the wrap from the tree branch and holds it out to Draco. Draco winces as he reaches for it. "Would you mind wearing Scorpius on the way back?" he asks. "I think I got too much sun on my back."

Harry hands Scorpius to Teddy while Draco shows Harry how to position the wrap and ties it for him, then helps put Scorpius inside. Scorpius immediately grabs Harry's hair in his fists and starts to babble nonstop. Harry grins. "Come on, let's get back and have some lunch." 

They walk back side by side with Teddy in the middle and everything is back to normal, like it should be.

~*~

Harry walks down the stairs wearing the jeans that Draco calls his "fuck me" jeans, and a simple green button-down shirt.

"Well, I'm taking off." 

Draco looks up from serving dinner, blinks, and takes a minute to catch himself before he says, "We'll be fine, Dad. I promise not to throw any wild parties while you're gone. When should I expect you back?"

"Not sure," Harry says, and musses Teddy's hair, and waves at Scorpius. He looks back to where Draco sits. "If it's a good night I'll be back in the morning. Don't worry about waiting up."

Draco stiffens, his smirk dissolving into a frown. "Hey, Teddy, keep an eye on Scorpius for a minute, will you?" He stands up and rounds the table, motioning for Harry to follow him into the hallway to the front door. 

Harry follows, feeling strangely as if he's done something wrong, like he's about to be scolded, though he can't understand why Draco would be upset. 

Draco turns around in front of the door, his eyes flashing, all mirth gone from his face. His voice is a whispered hiss. "Are you telling me that the reason you need a night out is to go and get shagged?"

The injustice of Draco flinging his actions at him as if he's in the wrong flares up inside Harry. 

"I don't see what's so bad about that," Harry says, keeping his voice low and non-threatening. "If you'd like a night out for yourself, I'll be fine with watching the kids later this week."

Draco clenches his fists, his mouth working as if he's chewing on his words before speaking.  
"I don't need a throwaway fuck from a stranger, Potter. If you would just… fuck. Never mind. Go on and go."

"Wait," Harry says, still not ready to just let this lie. "Why would you care if I go out and fuck a stranger? What's it to you what I do with my own body?"

Draco's eyes flash with something other than anger briefly, but then immediately his old Malfoy mask is back in place. "Obviously it's nothing to me. Have a nice night." Draco leaves Harry standing in the hall and returns to the dining room, all smiles and relaxed calm again. 

He can't help but feel he's missing something obvious, but as Draco has told him point blank that what Harry does is nothing to him, he lets himself out the front door and Disapparates to the Muggle club that he used to frequent years before. 

He stands at the bar; there are only a few people present at first and Harry orders a whiskey to take the edge off his nerves. It's smooth, not nearly as satisfying as firewhisky, but he knows he wouldn't last five minutes in a club in the wizarding world without being swarmed by photographers. 

He turns around, watching a crew of Muggles set up the music for the night and test the lighting. He leans back against the bar, his drink half-finished, wondering why he's feeling so empty being here. Perhaps he's too old for this scene now, too mellowed out by parenthood. But that's bollocks. He's not even out of his twenties yet. 

Draco's face as it turned from happiness to shock and then anger keeps popping up in his mind. He needs to stamp it out, push down all of the feelings he has for Draco that aren't strictly friendly. He'll go insane if he opens up his heart and it's refused. He finishes his drink and puts the empty glass back on the bar, looking up to meet the gaze of a fit young bloke standing on the opposite side of the square bar.

The bloke waves at him and Harry returns the gesture, not quite sure what he's signalling, but figuring that it can't hurt to talk to somebody while he waits to get drunk enough to fuck a stranger in the dead of night. 

The bloke makes his way to Harry's side. "Hi, I'm Steven. Can I buy you a drink?" 

His face is pale and pointed, his hair white-blond and he looks so much like Draco when he's not tanned, that Harry almost calls him Malfoy. 

"Er," Harry stammers. "I don't mind if you'll let me buy you one next. I'm not really… I mean. You look so much like somebody I'm…"

Steven arches his eyebrow knowingly. "Ah, say no more," he says, still smiling. "Trying to forget him, are you? We can just have a drink and a talk while we wait for this place to come alive. I'm all right with that."

Harry returns the smile, feeling stupid and a bit sheepish, but he is grateful that Steven doesn't take offence at having his advances rebuffed. They drink and chat for a while and before long, Harry feels more comfortable in his skin and at ease in the club. 

The lights dim and a thrum rises from the throng of dancers behind him. At least a couple of hours have flown by.

"Have a good night, Harry," Steven says to him, squeezing Harry's hand on the bar top. "I'm going to go and try my luck on the dance floor." He smiles brightly and makes his way into the crowd of dancing bodies, his bright blond hair a beacon under the flashing lights. 

Harry turns back to the bar, thinking he might have one more drink and then head home. He had hoped to find a quick shag, but the prospect of actually seeking one out is a lot scarier than he'd anticipated. 

And then he feels hands on his waist, big hands, settling in right above his hips as if they belong there. He tenses, but when he feels the heat of the man's body behind him, and hears his voice, Harry feels like he's just turned to putty. 

"You look like sex on legs in those jeans," the man says, his voice low and full of unabashed desire. 

Harry reasons with himself. He's at a Muggle club. He can take care of himself. He's an adult. If the man tries to do anything that Harry doesn't like, his wand is concealed just up his sleeve. 

He turns in the man's arms, the hands on his hips, moving away enough to allow him to move, but not releasing him entirely. 

The man he's looking at is not Draco by a long shot. He has chin-length dark hair and eyes that are pools of pure lust, though it's too dark to make out their colour. He's built like Charlie Weasley, but as tall as Draco, though where Draco is all lean limbs, this man is chiselled bulk. Harry's cock hardens at once. 

"Thanks," Harry says at last, feeling he should say something, though it's almost as if the capacity for conversation has just leaked out of his ears. "I'm Harry."

The man smiles at him, then leans in close, his smooth-shaven face and soft hair brushing against Harry's cheek as he answers. "Call me Ryan. Come and dance."

Harry agrees, allowing himself to be pulled onto the dance floor. It's almost as if he's entranced, though it could just be the alcohol dulling his senses. He focuses on Ryan's face and falls into the lusty stare, his body moving along with Ryan's, following his lead. 

Before he even realises what's happening, they're kissing and groping each other in the middle of the mass of dancers, body heat and a relentless thrumming from the speakers surrounding them. But Harry doesn't give a rat's arse about anything but the demanding mouth he's kissing, being devoured by, and Ryan's hands on his body, under the back of his shirt, pressing hot and large against the skin of his back. It's too good. 

Ryan breaks the kiss, moving his lips over Harry's face as if he's learning it with his lips. "Want you so bad, Harry. Want to fuck your perfect arse, see it out of those jeans. Want to come back to mine?"

Harry arches his neck, pressing his hips forwards, bumping, writhing, swaying along with Ryan's lead, while Ryan moves his lips down the side of Harry's neck, kissing every inch of him he can along the way.

He wants this, wants to shag, to be taken, to relinquish control of himself to another man, but the niggling doubt inside him rises up. He wants it to be Draco that does it to him. Draco's smile pushes its way into his head, followed by his frustrated dismissal earlier that night. Harry pushes the memories down, forcing himself to just feel right now, to just enjoy the sensation of being wanted. 

"Can't," he says, his voice cracking a bit, as if he can't believe he's turning it down. "Got to … Oh fuck."

Ryan massages his cock through his jeans, supporting it just right, his hand hot and heavy through the material. 

"How about if I just take care of this then," Ryan suggests, moving his face back enough to look Harry straight in the eye. "We can talk about more some other time."

Harry nods stupidly, the flicker of pleasure inside him leaping higher as he holds onto Ryan's hand and follows him out the back door of the club to the Alley behind it. 

Ryan pushes him against the wall, nuzzling into his neck, and Harry's face feels suddenly hot in the cool of the night air. The sounds of other couples making out a short distance from them brings Harry back to himself, his mind clearing. This isn't really what he wants. Draco's accusation of him looking for a 'throwaway fuck' rings in his ears. What he wants is a healthy relationship, a family, not _this_.

"Wait," he says, and pushes Ryan's shoulders with his hands. 

Ryan pulls back and shakes his hair out of his face, a knowing smile on his lips. 

"I can't," Harry says. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, kicking himself inwardly for wasting the opportunity, but at the same time he knows he's doing the mature thing, waiting to make sure he knows what he wants rather than falling prey to his libido under the influence of alcohol. 

"I know," Ryan says softly. He runs his hand over Harry's cheek, caressing it gently. 

Harry opens his eyes, and meets Ryan's sad gaze. 

"I seem to have a knack for picking up the ones who are taken."

"No," Harry starts. "It's not like that…"

"Harry," Ryan interrupts. "You've got it bad for some bloke and you're out here trying to convince yourself it's not true, right?"

Harry just nods dumbly.

"You'll figure it out. He'll come around too. I can see that you're worth it."

Ryan drops his hand and turns away. He heads back inside.

Harry drops the back of his head against the wall, smacking it harder than he'd intended. 

_Fuck._

The image of Draco his mind supplies is right in front of him once more, and instead of relief that he didn't give into his lust and make a bad choice, he curses Draco for ruining even this for him. 

After a few minutes, he Apparates back to Andromeda's house, preparing for a long night of frustrated wanking that never quite satisfies. 

He closes the front door and notices a light is on in the sitting room. He goes in to put it out, but finds Draco sitting on the sofa, an open book in his lap. The light comes from an oil lamp on the edge table and it illuminates Draco in a golden circle amidst the dark of the rest of the room. 

Draco looks up as he enters, shutting his book without saving his place. 

"I didn't think you'd wait up for me," Harry says. 

Draco arches an eyebrow but doesn't answer. His lips are tight.

Harry takes a deep breath, hating feeling like he needs to apologise; he swears he's done nothing wrong. "I want to apologise," he says, unsure how Draco will take what he has to say. "I'm not good at this. I don't even know what I did to upset you, but —"

"No. You don't," Draco cuts in. "You can't even see past the end of your own nose."

"Look," Harry says, starting to feel like they're back in time, picking fights and trying to wound each other, but trying not to let that happen. "If you'd like to have a night off for yourself, I told you I'd be fine with that."

Draco stands up, anger darting across his face, made worse by the effect of the shadows. "A quick fuck with a stranger is _not_ on _my_ agenda, Potter."

Harry starts forward, but Draco puts out the light before he can say anything and crosses the room, passing him on the way out without a backwards glance. 

Harry stands stock still for a minute or so, not at all sure what the hell just happened.

~*~

"Harry, why aren't you and Draco talking any more?" Teddy asks.

They're lying on their backs on a blanket by the swimming hole. Harry's been going on his own with Teddy the past couple of weeks, because whenever he brings the idea up to Draco, Draco tells him it's Scorpius's nap time or has another excuse ready. The tension between them has been so thick, Harry can't stand it. 

"I don't know," Harry says. "I'm still not sure what I did wrong. I've tried talking to him but you see what he does, shuts me down every time I open my mouth."

Teddy turns onto his side facing Harry, his head propped on his hand and supported by his elbow. "I think you should marry him," he says sounding thoughtful. "Then we'd be a real family and he'd know you like him."

Harry's eyes bulge at that. He turns to face Teddy, mimicking his position. "What would make you say a thing like that? People can't just marry each other and expect all their problems to go away."

Teddy frowns as Harry goes on.

"Teddy, you're eight years old. Trust me, you don't know what you're talking about."

"No, Harry," Teddy says and rolls his eyes. "You're old enough to know what you're talking about, but you don't because you act like a git."

"Hey," Harry says, narrowing his eyes. "Who taught you to call people gits?"

Teddy shrugs. "Draco calls you a git all the time."

"Fan-bloody-tastic," Harry says under his breath. "Come on, Ted. Let's get back up to the house for lunch."

~*~

When they return to the house, Andromeda meets them at the door, all hugs and kisses for each of them.

"How's everything?" Harry asks after she releases him. "Narcissa doing all right?"

Andromeda smiles warmly, playing idly with Teddy's hair. 

"Oh yes, much better. Thanks for asking." She stops fussing with Teddy and gestures to the sitting room. Harry sits on the sofa, while Teddy runs into the dining room to watch Draco supervising Scorpius's lunch. 

Draco doesn't look at him, doesn't even acknowledge he knows Harry is there. 

Andromeda looks from Harry to Draco and back again, her hands on her hips and a frown on her face. 

"You know what, I could use some tea. Come and help me in the kitchen, Harry."

Harry cringes inwardly. He senses the coming lecture and doesn't want to face it, but he stands up all the same. "I should go and put on a shirt," he says, hoping to buy himself a couple of minutes first.

"There's no need for that," Andromeda says, and walks into the dining room. "Draco, I'd like your help in the kitchen too. Teddy, you can keep an eye on Scorpius for a few minutes, can't you, dear?"

"Sure!" Teddy says, laughing as Scorpius pounds his fist into his bowl of oatmeal. 

Draco looks like he's about to raise a fuss but, spotting Harry, frowns and walks into the kitchen without another word. 

Harry follows, feeling as if he's walking to his doom under Andromeda's watchful eyes. 

"We'll only be a moment, Teddy. If you need help, just knock on the door."

She closes the kitchen door behind her and throws a Muffliato charm at it, then turns to look at Harry and Draco.

They're standing on opposite sides of the small kitchen, Draco leaning up against the counter beside the range, and Harry beside the bin and the sink. 

"Harry," Andromeda says, her voice no longer full of the warmth and care of a few minutes ago. "I've heard things aren't going well between you and Draco these past couple of weeks, and I can't help but feel disappointed… in both of you." She turns to Draco at her last remark. 

Draco flinches and Harry can't help but grimace as well. Neither of them say anything. 

"Listen to me, boys," she says, now sounding weary, though no less angry. "I'm old. I love you both as if you were my own sons, and your children as my own grandchildren. You know this. But there's only so much one person can do to help hold a family together. My sister needs me right now. She's doing better, but she's not in the clear yet. I've got a friend staying with her while I sort you two out."

Harry starts to speak, but she shushes him with a wave of her hand. 

"Let me finish. I need to get this out. Teddy and Scorpius need each other and both of you as much as you need them. It's not right for a family to split apart because of a misunderstanding, and it's not right for children to have to live never knowing what sort of bickering the adults responsible for them are doing amongst themselves. I'm going to say this one time and you will hear me out."

She shoots them each a sharp look, demanding attention, and the shadow of her sister in her power mad glory looms over her. 

"You _will_ work out your differences and you _will_ be civil about it. I'm staying for two nights. I want you to go to Harry's place and have it out once and for all."

Harry and Draco both start at this, but again she silences them, this time holding up a long sharp finger with each hand at them, dark eyes fixing them severely. 

"You will go to Harry's and fight, scream, cry, yell, talk, and do whatever it takes to fix this mess. When you are finished, you will come back and your boys will be more than happy to see you again. This is my house, and this is my call. You will do this for your children. Do I make myself clear?"

There's no arguing with her. She opens the kitchen door and Summons a couple of rucksacks from the sitting room and passes one to each of them. The door swings closed again.

"What about Scorpius?" Draco asks. "I won't leave without my son."

Andromeda levels him with a no-nonsense gleam in her eyes. "The faster you work things out, the sooner you'll be back with him." 

"This is preposterous!" Draco exclaims. "Potter, come on, you see that she's being entirely unreasonable! Say something, stand up to her!"

Harry shakes his head, narrowing his eyes. "If you hadn't gone running to complain to her, she wouldn't be here in the first place." He sounds bitter and he knows it, but Draco appealing to him right now isn't what Harry wants. He has his sights set on the bottle of Firewhisky he's got stashed away at home to get through whatever fight the evening has in store for them.

Andromeda gives Draco a push towards the kitchen door from behind, as he squawks in indignation. "Go and say goodbye and then sort yourselves out."

Harry pushes the kitchen door open and strides through it, leaving Draco arguing with Andromeda. He approaches the table and gets a splat of oatmeal thrown on his chest by Scorpius. 

"Hey, Teddy," he says, Vanishing Scorpius's mess with his wand. Teddy looks up at him, a crease across his forehead. "There's nothing to worry about. Draco and I are going to head home for a day or so to have a talk, but we'll be back and things will be good again, yeah? Your gran is going to spoil you and Scorpius rotten while we're gone." He smiles, though he knows it probably looks forced. 

Teddy taps his fingers on the tabletop while Scorpius babbles and bangs his tray with his freshly cleaned spoon. "So you're going to tell him that you like him? And tell him that you want us to all be together?" 

Harry hates seeing the worry in Teddy's eyes. He longs to take the uncertainty away. "Yeah," he says, fighting down his feelings of frustration with Draco. "You know I want to work things out so we can all get along. Take care to help out with Scorpius, won't you?"

Teddy pushes his hair out of his face, and nods seriously. 

"Draco, that is my final word," Andromeda says, coming out of the kitchen, breaking the Muffliato Charm. She smiles brightly, transforming her face before Harry's eyes. He knows she's doing it for the kids and is glad of it, but the slow coiling of bitterness in his gut is hard to ignore. He crosses to the fireplace and grabs a pinch of Floo powder while Draco is fussily saying goodbye to Scorpius and Teddy. 

"It's Godric's Hollow," he says over his shoulder, and throws the powder in the fire without acknowledging whether or not Draco heard him. He stumbles out of his own fireplace on the other end and dusts himself off. 

He has barely taken three paces when Draco comes spinning out of the hearth after him. 

He knows he's being childish, but he can't help but resent Draco right now for the mess they've landed in. He squares his shoulders, not looking at Draco, and marches down the hallway to his room, tossing his rucksack through the open door.

"Are you going to show me around?" Draco asks, coming up behind him, making the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand on end. He turns to face Draco and shrugs, then points out the rooms in the small hallway. 

"Teddy's room is across from mine, the guest room's at the end, you can kip there." He snatches Draco's rucksack from his hands and tosses it at the closed door at the end of the hall. "Bathroom's behind you and you've seen the sitting room and kitchen. It's not much, but it serves us all right."

"What the hell is your problem?" Draco asks, giving Harry a withering look. "Don't tell me you're fussed with me sleeping in the guest room. It's not where you entertain overnight 'guests' while Teddy sleeps, is it?"

"What's _my_ problem?" Harry asks, his blood thundering in his ears. "What's _yours_? I tried to be nice and get along. I tried to be discreet when I went out so I wouldn't make waves, but you're in my business all the time! I even offered to let you have a night out of your own, but you just shut me out!"

"I've told you already, Potter! I don't need a one-night stand! In case you haven't noticed, _I've_ grown up!"

"For fuck's sake! So have I! Do you even know how long its been since I've been shagged? Five fucking years! Before Teddy even came to live with me! I'm not some depraved sex maniac! It's your fault I even needed to go out that night, and then your fault I left before anything even happened!"

Harry can't stand it any more, standing in the hallway and having a shouting match with Draco. He throws up his hands and storms back down the hall to the kitchen, bumping Draco's shoulder on his way. 

"I need a fucking drink. I swear I can't even talk to you any more."

Harry can feel Draco watching him as he pulls his secret bottle of Ogden's Old down from the top cabinet. He looks up to see Draco's eyes narrowed, watching him from the other side of the short wall that divides his tiny kitchen from the rest of the house. 

"My fault," Draco says, shaking his head. "How is that … What are you even on about?"

Harry looks away and takes down a glass. His hands shake as he pours himself a whiskey, answering Draco's questions without meeting his eyes. 

"I didn't even think about shagging or wanting a partner when it was just me and Teddy. I knew he needed me more than I needed … that." He takes a swallow of the whiskey, savouring the liquid fire and the boost that it gives him. He looks at Draco again, at his perfect pointed face, tanned now so that he hardly resembles the git Harry went to school with, his blond hair further bleached by the sun. "You know I'm gay," Harry says, lowering his voice, attempting to keep from sounding accusatory, but failing. "I could see you'd matured. You were so fabulous with Scorpius and Teddy took to you straight away, and then you started showing off your body, prancing around half dressed all the time. Merlin! Do you even know how hard it is to stamp down five years' worth of pent-up arousal? It's like you were doing it on purpose to make me suffer." He finishes off his drink and sets his empty glass down a bit harder than he means to. Stopping, staring at his trembling fingers, cursing them.

"You know, Potter. Usually when you fancy somebody, the best way to go about it is to tell them. Going off to shag somebody else sends entirely the opposite message."

Harry stares at Draco, his tongue heavy in his mouth and throat burning from the Firewhisky. He swallows. "But you aren't gay. I wasn't going to tell you and fuck things up when they seemed to be going well."

Draco rakes his fringe back from his forehead and sighs. "No, you just fuck things up trying not to fuck things up. Honestly. What is wrong with you? Who told you I was straight?"

Harry's mind reels, his legs not as steady as before. He's still got one hand wrapped around his empty glass and the other around the neck of the bottle of Firewhisky, both sitting on the counter. 

"But … your wife, you had Scorpius with her …"

"She wasn't my wife, Harry," Draco says softly, though his expression isn't soft. He looks as though he's preparing a defence. "She was my best friend, and …" He pauses a moment, looking pained. "Now she's dead."

Draco turns around and walks to the sitting room, looking from Harry's worn sofa to the worn armchair, as if trying to decide which would be safer to sit in. He calls back over his shoulder. "Bring me a glass of that Firewhisky," and settles on the sofa, testing the cushions by bouncing up and down a couple of times.

Harry's not quite sure what to say. Is Draco interested in him or not? Has he screwed things up beyond repair or is there still hope? He fetches another glass and carries them with the bottle to the coffee table and sits down beside Draco on the sofa. There's enough space between them to fit another person, but Harry can still feel Draco's body heat licking his skin, though that could just be an aftereffect of the Firewhisky. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry asks while busying himself pouring drinks. He hands one to Draco, not quite able to take his eyes off Draco's now that he's met them.

"I didn't think you were interested after you went looking for another bloke to shag while I had been practically offering myself to you for weeks. You can see how that is a bit of a turn-off, can't you?"

Harry nods and takes a sip from his glass. He feels exposed wearing only his swimming trunks, but there's nothing for it; they need to have this talk right now. 

"So, what do we do now? I owe you an apology."

"Accepted," Draco says, and drinks from his glass, settling it back on his thigh and holding it there. "Shall we talk? That's what she wants us to do, right?"

Harry nods, thinking. He picks up a cushion and sets it between himself and Draco, not so much to separate them as to hide his treacherous cock, which is very much getting off on being so close to Draco. 

"So, Astoria," Harry says, hesitating. "You weren't married. What were you to each other then?"

Draco stares at his glass a moment and then looks up at Harry. "We were each other's answer to having a family. I'm gay, she was gay, we both wanted a child. We'd planned to have a baby together and raise him right. Any potential partners either of us had would just have to accept that we were parents first." He stops talking and takes another drink. "But it didn't work out quite right."

Harry's not sure what to say. He's dealt with death and loss his whole life, but it never gets easier to talk about. "I'm sorry," he says lamely. 

Draco looks at him, his lips quirking at the corners. "Who'd have thought we'd end up here? It blows my mind I find you as attractive as I do."

"So, you _were_ trying to get my attention with all the nudity, and massages." Harry says. He's so rusty at flirting, he feels like rolling his eyes at himself.

"Don't flatter yourself," Draco shoots back. "I was lonely and you were there." Harry frowns, but Draco gives him a sideways glance. "But you're not so bad to look at and … whatever." He finishes his drink and puts the glass back on the table. 

"What else?" Harry asks. "I'm not bad to look at and what? Come on. I told you."

Draco shrugs, then sits forward on the sofa and pours himself another glass of Firewhisky. "You're doing a good job raising Teddy," he says. "Scorpius seems taken with you, too."

Harry sets his glass down next to Draco's and Draco pours him some more as well. He nudges Draco's foot with his own foot. "How long has it been for you?"

"What do you mean?" Draco asks, handing Harry back his glass and picking up his own, then settling back into place on the sofa. Harry notices they're a bit closer than earlier. The cushion is the only thing between them. 

"You know," Harry says, his voice teasing. "I told you it's been five years for me. How long for you?"

Draco smirks, his eyebrow arching. "It was about two years ago, the week Scorpius was conceived."

"So, you're bi?" 

Draco tilts his head while looking at Harry, as if he really can't figure him out. "No. I was making a baby. You do know how babies are made?"

"Fuck off," Harry says, chuckling. Draco hides his smile behind his glass and takes another drink. "I don't know. I guess I thought there'd be a magical version of artificial insemination, or something."

Draco rests his glass on his thigh and looks at Harry blankly.

"Well, with Muggles," Harry says, his face flushing. "The bloke wanks into a cup and then they squirt it into …"

"Stop," Draco says abruptly. "I don't need that image in my brain. Fuck. It's already there." He gives Harry a glare, but Harry can see the laugh lines around his mouth twitch as he tries not to smile. 

Harry chuckles again and sets his glass back on the coffee table at the same time Draco does the same thing. Their arms brush.

"Sorry," Harry says, though as he settles back on the sofa, his arm resting on the cushion between them, he doesn't pull away when Draco rests his arm beside Harry's. 

Harry closes his eyes, basking in the golden moment that comes with drinking, not quite drunk, but undeniably affected. Draco moves his arm up and down against Harry's, the heat from the contact shooting through Harry's nerves to his cock like a jolt. 

He moves his hand, still not daring to open his eyes lest he break the spell, meeting Draco's palm. Their arms are entwined, hands connected palm to palm, dry and soft, fingers weaving together, but not still. They move their hands together in an unspoken agreement, like their hands are dancing, and the heat from their arms pressed together makes Harry's chest and face flush hot. 

He finally dares to open his eyes as he senses Draco shift his position. He meets Draco's gaze, closer than he'd expected. Draco pulls the cushion out from between them with his free hand, and shifts closer so their thighs touch. He caresses Harry's cheek, and takes his glasses off, then puts them on the coffee table. 

Harry holds his breath, hardly daring to believe this is happening. But it is. He closes his eyes again as Draco's lips brush his and finds bliss. He drinks Draco in like wine, tasting not so much the actual kiss, as everything that embodies Draco in his mind's eye. He's kissing the smiling dad who hikes around wearing his baby wrapped on his back; who sunbathes nude and unashamed; who rocks back and forth on his knees like an idiot to encourage his son to crawl; who reads bedtime stories and waits for Harry to do the sound effects. It's more than Harry can process and he works his hand down between their bodies to feel for himself exactly how hard Draco is for him right now, gasping into Draco's mouth as Draco's hand moves, knuckles pushing against Harry's cleft through his trunks. He's on fire. He wants, he needs more.

Draco breaks from their kiss, his breath hot on Harry's face, pushing his fist harder against Harry's arse, burying his head in Harry's neck. "If we shagged right now, would that make things weird?" His voice is a mix between a groan and a whine. 

It's hard for Harry to catch his breath his need is so urgent. He's flushed and sweating. "I think things would be weirder if we don't."

Draco breathes against his neck, pressing a kiss to Harry's pulse point and then draws back.

"Let's take it to the bedroom."

Harry feels the loss of Draco's body, his hand, his warmth, his cock, keenly and he frowns. He wants it now. He's wound so tight he'll come in an instant.

"What's the matter with doing it here?" 

Draco pull his shirt off and then stands to unfasten his flies. He smirks down at Harry. "Five years? We need lube. I assume you have some in your bedroom?"

Harry jumps to his feet. He's in his room a minute later, kneeling on the bed as he fetches the jar of lube from his bedside table drawer. 

"Don't move," Draco says from behind. 

Harry sets the small jar on the mattress beside him and turns to look over his shoulder. Draco drops his trousers and is not wearing underwear. He steps out of his trousers one leg at a time, then folds them neatly and puts them on the bench at the foot of Harry's bed, eyes trained on Harry all the while. His cock is hard and juts upward with a slight curve towards his navel from a bed of neatly trimmed golden curls. Harry swallows, his own cock trapped sideways in his trunks, bent and aching.

His body trembles under Draco's heated stare. He can feel Draco coming closer. He drops his head, closing his eyes, poised on his hands and knees as the bed dips and Draco climbs up behind him.

Draco's hands are hot on his waist. He trembles and bites his lip as his arse is exposed when Draco pulls his trunks down to his thighs. 

The nervous energy inside him makes him shiver. He wonders what Draco will have to say about his arse, if he'll think it's queer or hot.

"Fuck, I think you're trying to kill me," Draco's voice is thick and slithers into Harry's ears like a serpent's tongue. Harry shudders as Draco's hands part his buttocks and slide over the cleft, tapping at his entrance and making it flutter. "Do you always keep it smooth like this?" 

Harry nods helplessly, looking down to where his cock throbs, dripping precome from its slit. He's so damn close already. He wonders if he'll last long enough for Draco to penetrate him. "I, uh … I like the way it feels."

Draco doesn't say anything else, but his breath catches as if his voice is failing him, and Harry stops thinking altogether. _Draco's tongue is on his arse._ Draco's tongue is the only thing left in the entire world. Harry pushes back against it, trying to force the flat long licks into pointed jabs, wanting it inside him, wanting all of Draco inside him. 

"Please," Harry pants, biting the sheets as Draco flicks in deeper. "Need it. Need your cock." He pushes the jar of lube down where Draco can reach it, arching his back to open himself up as much as he can with his thighs trapped. 

Draco prepares him hard and fast, breaking away panting, pumping his fingers roughly, curling them to tease his prostate. "I apologise now for how short I'm going to last," he says, pulling his hand free and bucking up against Harry's backside, cocks sliding together as Draco fucks up under his balls, holding onto his waist with one hand and using the other to trace up and down his spine. 

"Yeah! Merlin! Put it in!"

Harry holds on tight, gripping the edge of the mattress as Draco breaches him. He's wet and slick, and Draco slips in all the way in one thrust, cursing as he does. 

"Fuck! It's good. Fuck, Harry."

Harry's so far gone, he hardly registers what Draco is saying. His entire existence has narrowed to the point of connection. He's being filled by _Draco_ ; completed, possessed. Draco's hand closes around his leaking cock, slippery with lube, and Harry fucks it with every thrust, rising to climax and crashing. He comes, gasping and nearly sobbing it feels so good, so perfect. He's missed sex more than he realised, the sounds, the sensations of another hot and sweating body, of submitting to the lusts of another man. But the way he's feeling now, as if his mind is in his body, in the sensation rather than in his head; it's the fuck he's been looking for his entire life and he didn't even last a minute. 

Draco stills his hips while Harry rides out his orgasm and then Draco's voice is right there. "I can't wait."

Harry sobs, pushing back into Draco's hips. "Take me!"

He's pushed face first into the mattress, covered by Draco's body moulding itself to his back, gripping him in a fierce bear hug, lips pressed to his neck and shoulders, jerking and fucking his hole relentlessly. It's all Harry can do to turn his head and remember to breathe. He's never submitted so entirely in his life, legs trapped, body entirely overpowered, but the way Draco holds him, as if he's precious, cherished, makes it easy to let go. 

Draco's thrusts become faster and more erratic. The air is full with Draco's soft grunting and the squeak of bedsprings, bouncing until Harry's on the edge of the mattress. Draco comes groaning, sobbing, laughing, pumping Harry full of come to the point Harry can feel it smearing between his thighs, can practically taste it in the air. 

They still; Draco's dead weight on top of him warms him, makes him feel safe. He's not ready to move, not ready to face the truth of what they've just done, doesn't want to go back to the sniping and childish bickering. 

"Come here," Draco murmurs against his cheek and pulls away, dragging Harry with him.

Harry goes with it, lets Draco guide him off the wet spot to the pillows where they lie side by side, catching their breath. 

Draco slips his arm behind Harry's neck, curling himself around Harry's body and looking down into Harry's face, twisted on his side. 

"I want to tell you something," he says.

Harry nods, waiting.

"Before we go back to whatever our usual is between us, I want to say something that's going to sound sappy and pathetic, but it's heartfelt."

Harry nods again, sighing as Draco slips his hand down to Harry's cock, caresses his balls and slips his fingers into the mess beneath them. 

Harry kicks his legs, working his swimming trunks off his legs finally, parting his legs further so Draco can tease his hole with his fingers. He keeps looking into Draco's eyes, his arousal building again, but trying to stay present long enough to hear whatever it is Draco needs to say. 

"I think that was the fastest fuck I've ever had, including when I lost my virginity," Draco starts, and Harry's face flushes with heat, but he's not sure if it's embarrassment for having come so fast or because of the fingers in his arse. "But it was also the best," Draco says, his eyes clear and not at all teasing. He's being entirely serious. "You felt that too, I know you did. What I want to say, Harry, is that I want this a lot more. I want you a lot more, and I don't want to share you with any other men." 

He pushes his fingers in deeper, finding Harry's prostate and stroking it gently. Harry moans. Draco's words, his tone, his fucking fingers, are all playing him like a violin. He's sold, entirely.

"I want to sleep with you at night," Draco says and brushes his lips lightly against Harry's. "I want to live with you, and raise Teddy and Scorpius with you." He moves his thumb back and forth over Harry's perineum, fingers still tickling inside his body. "I want all of that, and I want your arse, your cock, your whole fucking body. I want you to have me too."

Words seem to fail him after that. He closes his eyes, still stimulating Harry, but his face is tense as if he's waiting for Harry to tell him no.

"Draco," Harry says. His cock is full and hard again, straining towards his navel. 

Draco opens his eyes again and they're wet. Harry smiles. "I want it too," he says, and pulls Draco's face down to kiss him again, hands exploring Draco's body, his back, his waist. It's like a dream, but Harry's not about to complain.

~*~

Harry's eyes are tired, the words in his book blurring together. He yawns and closes the book, and looks over to where Draco and Scorpius are sleeping soundly beside him. His heart swells, as Draco's bare chest rises and falls with his gentle breathing, keeping time with Scorpius's soft two-year-old snores where he's fallen asleep with his bum in the air between them.

Harry ruffles Scorpius's soft white-blond hair and then puts his book and glasses on the bedside table and turns off the lamp. 

Closing his eyes and allowing himself to fall into the sinking feeling prior to sleep, Harry's ears perk at the sound of squeaking floorboards in the hallway outside the open bedroom door. He lifts himself up on his elbows watching in the darkness, eyes just adjusting, as Teddy appears in the doorway. 

"What's up, Teddy?" Harry calls softly, and Teddy shuffles into the room, coming to stand beside Harry's side of the bed. 

"I couldn't sleep," Teddy says, pausing, nervous. 

Harry pulls his blankets back and offers the space next to him, scooting over a bit closer to Scorpius to make room. "Come on, get in, talk to me."

Teddy hesitates a moment and Harry can practically read him arguing with himself about being too old to crawl into bed with Harry.

"I'm nearly thirty and I sleep better when I'm not alone," he says.

Teddy's face relaxes and he climbs into bed beside Harry while Harry pulls the blankets back up to their chests. 

"Mmm — I don't wanna be a pumpkin," Draco mumbles, and rolls over in his sleep. 

Teddy and Harry look at each other a moment and stifle their laughter. "Not a word about that to him in the morning," Harry warns, then winks. "We'll tell him after he's had his coffee first."

"Just don't tell my friends I still sleep with you sometimes," Teddy says, turning on his side and closing his eyes. He yawns.

Harry settles back and closes his eyes too, chuckling. "I wouldn't dream of it."

He's right where he wants to be. Before Draco had come into his life, Harry thought he'd had it as good as it gets, but now that they are partners and raising the boys together, he realises how wrong he had been. 

"Thank you," Harry whispers in the dark. 

"What for?"

"Just for being you. You helped me figure things out and I want you to know I'm proud. Your parents would be too."

Teddy is quiet a moment before he answers. "You too, Harry. Yours would be proud too."

The End


End file.
